Arranque Roteño
by tyltyl
Summary: A simple dish involving tomatoes. Spain muses over Romano eating and is glad for once that he never made it to the meeting.


**Author's Note:** Originally posted on the hetalia comm at LJ

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"Where is that idiot? I thought I told him that we had some very important things to do today." Romano complained in the midst of a yawn. He and his brother had planned to spend the day going over ways to deal with the economic recession and the crisis with the mafia. Romano didn't mind work honestly, he did most of it anyways, but what he did mind was how absent-minded his brother tended to be. "Honestly, he was the one that called me out. 'Get your mafia out of my Milan, brother!' _Ugh_. If I could I would."

The southern half of Italy looked up at a clock hanging on the wall nearby. It was nearing three o'clock which probably meant that his brother would be even later than he was already going to be. Romano yawned again and rested his head on the desk folding his arms to use them as a make-shift pillow. Eyes closed and progressively getting more irritated by the minute, Romano could feel his stomach growl. "That bastard better bring food with him when he comes if he knows what's good for him." Romano mumbled to himself. Seeing that originally they had planned to do work, Romano didn't think about eating anything for lunch and typical Italian breakfasts already don't amount to anything beyond an espresso. In short, he was hungry. Romano was hungry, tired, irritated, frustrated, and probably as far from being happy as he could possibly be.

Though, he was able to catch some sleep as the clock struck three despite of all the other things keeping him awake. If it was possible, Romano would have like to thank the pre-programming in him that subconsciously made him always tired at the exactly three. Romano would also thank that he didn't have the urge to undress each time he took a siesta. Oh the hell that would have caused when he was growing up with Spain. Sleeping at night naked was one thing, but taking his afternoon naps naked? Romano could only imagine the number of eyes on him then.

Minutes ticked by which soon turned into hours and it was already five thirty when Romano finally woke up from his alleged 'siesta'. Groggy and sleep still in his eyes, Romano heard a very familiar voice ring in his ears and quickly wished it was the voice of someone else. "Buenos días Lovi! Ah, though it's not morning anymore is it?" Spain chirped placing a hand on Romano's head. Romano glared at Spain and pushed away the hand from his head before muttering a series of questions and commands as he became more and more coherent, "What the hell are you doing here, you bastard? Get your ass off my desk. Didn't I tell you to knock? Don't just barge in here. Where's my brother? What time is it?" Romano paused for a moment when he caught a whiff or something. "Do I smell food?"

Spain gave a full hearted laugh and hopped off Romano's desk before starting the careful process of answering each and every one of Romano's questions in order. "I was lonely, Lovi, so I decided to come visit you. Sí, you have many times and I did knock. I don't know where little Veneziano is though I'm sure you have an idea, and it's five thirty...five! Oh, and sí. You did smell food."

Romano used the time when Spain was answering his questions to wake himself up and make sense of everything he was being told. The Italian could feel his eyebrow twitch involuntarily as he thought about where his younger brother could be _besides _where he was suppose to be. Romano wondered why he just didn't give up sometimes. "What is it?" Romano asked as he dropped his head up with his left arm.

"Arranque Roteño and Gambas Ajillo!" Spain declared proudly as he brought forth a wooden basket with obviously the food mentioned inside of it. Romano sniffed the aroma emitting from the basket and acknowledged that it was indeed food and perhaps even good food at that. However he couldn't say that he'd heard of the former before. And judging from the way that the Spaniard was beaming, he wasn't sure if the food in the basket was safe for eating or not. Not because it didn't taste good, oh no, Romano had full faith that it probably tasted amazing, but it was more like he was worried about what was exactly in it.

"Ar...ran...khe Ro...te...ño?" Romano repeated trying to imitate what he heard in Spanish as closely as he could. Three hundred years with the bastard and Romano's Spanish still could have used a lot of improvement. Not entirely his fault though. After all, Spain could have just as simply learned Italian. "What the hell is that?"

Spain laughed again, this time he was laughing at Romano's poor Spanish. He gave the nation credit even if what he just said was just barely acceptable at best. Spain placed the basket onto the side of the desk before answering Romano."Arranque Roteño, Lovi. It's a gazpacho in dip form and strictly made in Rota." With that said, Spain took out the dip out from the basket and placed it in front of his favorite Italian nation. "Try it Lovi. I made it myself." Spain added as he handed Romano a slice of baguette bread.

Romano took the baguette that was offered to him and eyed the strange red pasty like sauce. Spain made it himself, huh? The Italian figured he should have been a little more excited to taste the dip as he's usually the one doing the cooking when it was just the two of them. However, the sharp pains in his stomach couldn't be ignored any longer and Romano scooped some of that strange red goop onto his bread. "If there's anything funny in this, I'm making sure you'll regret ever moment of it." Romano warned before taking a bite. It was good. Really good.

Once Romano was done with his first slice of baguette bread he demanded for another one from the Spaniard and cursed him during the process. Damn him for making something to delicious. Damn him for making something so....weird but still so good. Spain watched Romano eat with a smile on his face, happily giving him a nice slice of bread after so many bites. He chuckled soft as he thought about how the Italian ate as if this was his first meal in days. A fact that he knew to be false. Romano always made sure that he was well fed.

"What the hell do you look so happy for, bastard?" Romano snapped in between his bites. "And why aren't you eating any of it? You didn't put anything funny in this because if you did-" The Italian was cut off by Spain smiling that smile of his and placing a hand on Romano's head. A gesture that always got Romano to blush faintly and lose track of where he was in thought, and in turn would cause Romano to curse the Spaniard as he quickly batted away the hand. "I just like to watch you eat sometime, Lovi." Spain said through one of his smiles. "You always look so happy..."

Upon shoving the last bit of bread into his mouth, Romano shot Spain a glare as the red shade on his cheeks deepened. How was it that he was so capable of saying such embarrassing things without even flinching? Romano seriously began to question if the Spaniard even thought about what he said before he said it. Honestly.

"O-of course I look happy." the Italian muttered trying to avoid eye contact with the ever smiling Spaniard. Didn't he ever stop? He would have questioned if he was ever sad, but Romano actually remembered the first time he saw him sad. A lot of words were exchanged that day as well as touches, none of them which Romano could ever take back. Not to imply that he would ever want to. He meant all those words he said that faithful day even if they were all said out of impulse and the desire of making sure that Spain stopped being so depressed.

There was a moment of silence on Romano's end as he sat there quietly still avoiding eye contact with Spain as he hummed a carefree tune native from his countryside as he cleaned up whatever was left of the Arranque Roteño. It seemed like there was no way his beloved Romano was going to finish it now that he made him feel so awkward. Even after all his hard work and Romano devouring the food with much gusto, he only managed to eat a little over half. Spain considered himself lucky at least, the Italian usually ate his meals a lot more casually and took hours to eat one meal, so the fact that he ate this much in a significantly shorter time made him a bit happier.

"You know Lovi," Spain began as he carefully placed the pot back into the basket, "You used to really hate tomatoes when you were smaller and now it's like you can't get enough of them."

Romano snuck a peak at Spain and gave him a questioning look. This was random even for Spain. Maybe not his brother, but then again Romano never knew exactly where his brother's brain was half of the time. "So? What's your point?" Romano retorted with a bit of a pout and a huff. A habit that Spain was really glad that Romano never grew out of, he was just so cute when he pouted.

Spain sighed and gave Romano a little defeated smile. Oh well, that was his Romano after all, as cute as he could be he constantly was reminding him where they stood with their relationship whether he knew it or not. They were friends. They were lovers. They were allies. And yet, among all of that they were still so much more. Romano had seen Spain and his most terrifying worse and absolute best and Spain had seen Romano grow before his very eyes, and yet they were still able to act like this. "Just reminiscing." Spain replied casually. "Though, Lovi, why did you change your mind about tomatoes? I remember you saying that you'd never like such a 'disgusting' and 'weird' thing for as long as you were around."

"Your memory must be failing because I don't remember saying anything like that. What I said was that I'd just never want to eat anything like that." Romano snapped back. There was no way he was going to let Spain put words in his mouth and somehow use them to imply something that was never there. "And just where do you think you're going with this anyways? You're not that old."

"Lovi..." It was something about Romano's last statement that made Spain really warm up inside, which apparently Romano took notice of because he suddenly became all flustered again. As Spain watched the southern half of Italy try to regain his composure, he wondered to himself how he was able to be so well-behaved right now and not taking full advantage of the situation before him. They were both alone for another good hour or two at the very least and Romano was being extremely cute.

"_Quiero hacerte el amor_."

Somewhere and somehow, in one swift moment Spain went from standing on the opposite side of Romano's desk to right next to having one arm snaked around the Italian's waist holding on tightly to it and the other hand cupping his face. Romano's face burned as he felt familiar lips pressed against his own as his mind grasped at what just happened and exactly how it all happened. Weren't they _just _talking about tomatoes? How did all that lead to...whatever it is they were about to do?

Romano's mind finally kicking back into high gear from being temporarily shut down by the surprise kiss from Spain, the Italian pulled his lips free and placed his hands in between them to prevent any further progress of this. Or at least, that's what he hoped would happen however Spain would not allow for mere hands to stop him and began planting soft kisses on each fingertip causing Romano's face to burn even hotter. "S-Spain!" The Italian shouted as he tried to figure out a way to get Spain to stop molesting his hands. Honestly, what had gotten into the Spanish bastard all of a sudden?

"You taste like tomatoes, Lovi." Spain said as he freed one of his hands to grab hold of Romano's hands and lower them.

The Italian felt his face become irritatingly hot and his body was starting to feel a bit weak under the Spaniard's touch. He hated it. He hated how Spain thought he could just waltz in and do whatever he wanted and break down any barriers that the Italian had up. Romano hated it so much mainly because it was all true. If there was anyone he wanted to break down all of his barriers, then it'd have to be Spain. Though on the same coin, Romano figured that such lewd behavior was solely reserved for him, which honestly was a mixed blessing when the Italian thought about it.

Cursing and trying to break free from Spain's grip Romano snapped back, "Well of course I taste like fucking tomatoes, you Spanish bastard! I wouldn't taste like anything else seeing that I just _ate _some!"

Spain grinned and Romano snarled. It always came down to this. No matter how many years passed, centuries even, the reaction was always the same. It didn't bother Spain though. He cherished every moment and every part of Romano, his bite, his swearing, his problematic and almost frustrating inability to get along with anyone… everything. Spain gave Romano another kiss as he made sure his grip on Romano was solid. The Spaniard also made a mental note to thank Veneziano for asking him to break the news to Romano about how he couldn't make it to their meeting.


End file.
